


Magic of Music

by RealtaCuardach



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Friendship, Gen, He's more graceful than we thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealtaCuardach/pseuds/RealtaCuardach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camelot has been grieving since Morgana's betrayal. Merlin and some musicians work to remedy that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic of Music

The two men standing in the corridor outside the council room looked so different from the inhabitants of Camelot that anyone walking through the hallway would notice them immediately.

Merlin being Merlin, however, nearly crashed into them. In his defense, it would have been hard to see them over the enormous mound of Arthur's armor that he was carrying to the prince's chambers. The armor slipped from his fingers and felt with a resounding crash as he stopped abruptly to keep from running into them.

"Sorry." He said apologetically as he stooped down to pick up the armor.

The elder of the two strangers gave him a warm smile and placed his violin tenderly out of harm's way before bending down to help. "No need to apologize, lad," he said in a slightly trilling accent, "No one was hurt."

The thinner, younger man nodded in agreement and placed his long wooden flute in the pouch hanging around his waist. He brushed his companion to the side and helped Merlin pick up the last of the armor, leaving the other to pick up his violin.

Merlin had tried to take the rest of the armor but they had insisted (the older man did most of the talking, whereas the younger man nodded emphatically) on helping to carry the armor the rest of the way. It was a considerably quicker trip for Merlin than he was used to and it was with a great deal of excitement that he realized that that was his last chore for the day. He looked at the two men who were standing looking around with varying degrees of awe at being inside a royal bedroom. "Are you hungry?"

It turned out to be a very good thing that Gaius had been called away to a nearby village to deal with a virulent strain of flu affecting the village's children – it meant that Merlin had two beds to offer the visitors. After returning from his successful foraging trip to the kitchens (there had not been enough leftovers for three people, he hadn't yet learned how to conjure food from thin air, and there was a certain amount of mischievous joy in sneaking around the often cantankerous cook), all three men sat around the fireplace and tucked in together.

"Thank you, lad," Nathaí, the older of the two, said as he spooned another spoonful of broth into his mouth. "This food's fit for a king."

Merlin grinned shamelessly. "You have no idea." Both men got his hint; Nathaí arched one eyebrow amusedly and the other, Anam, let out a snort of laughter.

Nathaí put down his bowl and reached over to the loaf of bread between them, ripping off a chunk and sighing appreciatively. "Now, I'm not complaining lad," he said as he tore the bread into pieces and passed it to the others, "but why are you doing this?"

Merlin shrugged. "To say thanks for helping me – and because I was curious. Why are you in Camelot?"

Anam swallowed his bite of bread and pulled out the flute from the bag by his waist, holding it out for Merlin to see. Nathaí said, "We're traveling musicians, and thought we might try our luck in the court of Camelot."

"Have you seen the prince?" Merlin asked, leaning forward. "I'm sure I could get you an audience with him."

"That's kind of you, lad," Nathaí said, "but we've seen him already."

"What did he say?" Merlin asked, although he already had an idea of the answer.

Nathaí shook his head. "They already have enough musicians here. They have no need of us."

"I'm sorry," Merlin wasn't surprised. The court already had a selection of classical, if somewhat bland, musicians, and Merlin could hardly see the council deciding to get rid of established musicians to try new ones. Their appearance, while dignified, was somewhat coarse and threadbare, which probably didn't help.

Merlin had faith that Arthur could see past that, but he wouldn't have expected him to advocate for two strangers – not now, at any rate, given all that he had on his plate. The kingdom was still reeling from the ramifications of what Morgana had done, and the king had not left his bedchambers since they'd rescued him from the dungeons. Arthur was now dealing with all the pressures of being the acting regent as well as his duties as a prince. And while he was dealing with the pressure well, he was beginning to run a bit ragged. He wouldn't be clashing with his father's council over as petty a matter as two musicians; not because he was cowed by the council, but because he was trying to make as few changes as possible to his father's way of running things. While his father still had breath in his body, Arthur held hope that he would return to the throne. Arthur did not, would not, see the throne as his yet – he saw such an idea as spitting in his father's face.

"No need for that," Nathaí smiled and shrugged. "That's how things go at times. I have faith that all will work out in the end – it always does."

Merlin set his bowl aside and leaned forward with eagerness. "Could I hear a bit?" Both musicians looked at him and he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "If you don't mind."

Anam beamed at him and pulled out his flute while Nathaí picked up his violin with a fluid motion and placed it under his chin. With no preamble besides a passing glance between the two, they launched as one into a merry tune. Merlin's eyes slid shut in appreciation and he leaned back, listening to the joyful, rollicking notes. The tunes brought back memories of sitting around the village square in Ealdor and listening to traveling musicians that passed through the village. The people of Ealdor would always welcome visitors, and the musicians would pay for their bread and shelter by lifting the town's spirit with their music. Merlin had thought the accents of the men seemed familiar, but the music made him sure. He could remember clapping on the side with Will, watching the men and women bound and spin around the dirt square, and the time when some of the older girls took it upon themselves to teach him and the other children how to jig.

Merlin's feet began tapping to the rhythm and even seemed to move into some semblance of a jig, although he seemed oblivious to this as his eyes remained closed and his posture was relaxed except for his merrily moving feet.

The music stopped, and he opened his eyes to see the musicians grinning amusedly at him. "Sure you're not from our neck of the woods, lad. That's pure music you've got in your feet."

Merlin flushed slightly but he grinned. "No, I'm from Ealdor. But a lot of musicians from the north came to our village and played for us sometimes. It was the best kind of music," he mused out loud, folding his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "It could lift our spirits in the darkest, coldest winter and made even the most sour want to get up and dance."

Beaming, the musicians looked at each other. Clearly, this lad was a kindred spirit. But their smiles became more serious as a thoughtful look crossed over Merlin's face. "I wish they had let you play here. Camelot could use some uplifting."

"I noted that." Nathaí nodded. "The prince was very kind but there was a great sadness in his eyes, and the courtyard was considerable quieter than what we'd expected of Camelot. What has happened?"

Merlin swallowed. "The king and prince…lost someone very dear to them recently. The whole kingdom grieves with them." It would have been too much trouble to go into all that had happened with Morgana's betrayal, and his simple summary was all truth. The Morgana they had known, the woman he'd been so taken with when he'd first come to Camelot, was lost to them as soon as she turned her back on her birth father and sought to take Camelot by force. The entire kingdom had suffered from the effects of her hate and greed, and the people of Camelot had lost their daughter as well when she'd betrayed them.

Nathaí's eyes grew solemn and he nodded slowly and sympathetically. "Aye, 'tis a tragic loss, to lose one's kin." Anam nodded, his eyes gleaming with an empathetic sorrow, and he picked up his flute, putting it to his lips. A slow, poignant dirge issued from his instrument.

Nathaí moved forward and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I know that pain all too well, lad. The missing never fades away, but the sting will fade in time. Your friend will be fine."

The beautiful music was interrupted by a healthy yawn, and both Merlin and Nathaí turned to face a sheepish-looking Anam, who was blushing as he tried to stifle the yawn. Nathaí grinned. "Maybe it's best if we turned in."

Merlin smiled and got up. "Probably. Got to get up early to help the prat tomorrow." Anam snickered and Nathaí coughed in an effort to cover up his laughter. "Your beds are up here."

He led them up to his bedroom, where he'd managed to magic Gaius' cot beside his bed while the others were busy starting the fire. "They're not much," he cautioned, "but I hope you sleep well anyway."

"They're enough for us, lad, thank ye." Nathaí said.

Merlin smiled. "Well, good night." And then he left.

Nathaí looked over at Aman. "I didn't see another bed in there, did ye?" Aman shook his head.

The two waited until they could no longer hear Merlin moving around in Gaius' chambers, and then carefully peeked into the room. The young man had wrapped himself up in a blanket and was lying in front of the fire, with a bundled jacket underneath his head as a pillow. Nathaí shook his head amusedly. "Should have known. That is a good lad."

"Aye," Anam said quietly.

Nathaí closed the door behind him and the two sat down onto their respective beds. "There ought to be something we could to repay him," Nathaí said as he laid his head on the pillow. "But I don't know what."

Anam looked pensively out the window as he thought. A smile spread across his face and he looked over at the man he saw as his father. "I've an idea."

~.~

"What is the matter with you, Merlin?" Arthur barked from his desk, where he was looking over some pending decrees. Merlin turned from the clothes he had been brushing and grinned.

"Nothing's the matter," He said, "I'm great – I haven't even tripped today."

Arthur smirked. "Exactly." His smirk grew as Merlin scowled at him. It was true – Merlin had not stumbled, tripped, or dropped anything all morning – and that was strange. Merlin, although far from being the worst servant in the five kingdoms despite what Arthur liked to say, was incredibly clumsy, and Arthur was accustomed to one or two crashes before lunchtime. But Merlin hadn't dropped a thing, and there had been a certain lift to his typically already energetic step. It had been almost as though he was dancing about the room. Normally, he would have mocked Merlin for acting like such a _girl_ , but he was too steeped in paperwork to spare the time to tease Merlin. Besides, although he'd admit it only to himself, he was glad to see his fr-servant so happy. Merlin hadn't let it show, but he knew the betrayal of Morgana had hit him hard as well as the exhaustion from the following battles. There was something about that goofy, genuine smile that gave Arthur hope for them all.

The acting regent quickly bend back down to his work. Great – now _he_ was the one acting like a girl.

Merlin opened the window to place the slightly damp shirt out on the warm stone so as to dry it more quickly. As he straightened up, he heard the faint strains of music and peered out across the courtyard in search of the sound. He beamed in recognition as he saw the two musicians tucked into a sunny corner near the square. "Arthur, look at this!"

Arthur looked up and took a bored glance out of the window. "Two men playing instruments," he commented disinterestedly.

"That's Anam and Nathaí!" Merlin exclaimed. Arthur didn't bother to ask how Merlin knew them – Merlin seemed to know everybody. "Their music is brilliant! Come on." He grabbed the back of Arthur's chair and dragged it over to the window, the prince giving a manly yelp in response. "You have to listen."

"Some of us have to work, Merlin," Arthur said as he tugged the chair back to the desk and sat down. "We can't go running around like children and wasting time."

"Oh, come on," Merlin said as he obligingly closed the window (although he did leave a gap for music to pass through), "just a few minutes!"

"No."

Merlin scowled a little disappointedly, but turned back to his work. There was an uncharacteristic silence in the chambers for a few minutes, and Arthur looked up from his papers. "Oh, go on Merlin," he allowed, "stop sulking like a dog with its tail between its legs."

"Really?" Merlin perked up.

Arthur waved one hand dismissively. "Only because if I don't, I'll not hear the end of your whining about it for days."

"Thanks!" Merlin beamed and ran out of the room. He didn't look back, although his eyes flashed gold in the deserted corridor and the window in Arthur's chamber swung open more so the music would seep in better.

~.~

Nathaí and Anam had come out to the square after having helped Merlin clear away breakfast earlier that morning. They had packed what they carried with them everywhere and walked out onto the sun-drenched courtyard. Together, the two foreigners watched as the stalls were set up and the villagers began their days, looking for a good clear spot to play their music. It looked as the whole kingdom could use a lift in spirits; there seemed to be a certain dullness in the proceedings of life that surrounded them.

With the care of a sculptor picking the ideal slab of marble to be made into a work of art, the two chose their playing field. They sent each other a smile and picked up their instrument. And then they began to play.

By the time Merlin had made it down to the square, Nathaí and Anam had drawn a small crowd, all of whom were listening but none of whom were dancing. They watched with interest but also with hesitation, a hesitation of interacting with foreigners. That had rarely been a problem before – but after being brought to their knees by two foreign armies, the army of Cenred and the bloodguard of Morgause, they were wary of strangers. Only the children, who were too young to know that kind of fear, tried to dance, jumping up and down and spinning behind the skirts of their protective mothers.

They and Merlin, who nearly skipped into the square, his feet were so light by the sound of the music. Nathaí beamed at him and Aman nodded emphatically, but neither skipped a beat in the music they were playing. Merlin's grin dimmed a little at the fact that no one was dancing, but then lit up as he saw the children jumping up and down and trying to dance. An idea came to him and he walked over to the children, kneeling down by a little girl that he remembered playing pattycake with when he came down with Gaius to tend to her mother. He held out his hands. "Care to dance?"

The little girl giggled and jumped up and down before grabbing one of his hands. After receiving a nod from the girl's mother, who remembered him, he brought her into the middle of the square and began to dance. He told her to stand on his feet and then he began to dance them into a slow jig. The onlookers watched in interest as the notoriously clumsy servant moved fluidly and smoothly through the movements, the mothers even allowing the young ones to come closer and see. Just as the little girl grew confident enough to step off of Merlin's feet and dance on her own, the other children spilled out and began to dance as well, all giggles and laughter and joy.

Merlin continued on in an exuberant jig of his own, looking like some sort of dancing Pied Piper, and noticed the continued wariness of the other people in the square. None of them had ever heard or danced to that music before, and did not have the children's indifference towards potentially looking foolish.

Without skipping a step, Merlin made his way over to a cluster of young women who began giggling and looking away coquettishly as he came closer. Some of them had slight interest in the manservant, but none would show it. Merlin looked past them to see a girl around his age sitting by herself, listening to the music. Hyrne was painfully shy, and the other girls her age tended to neglect her because of her shyness and plainness. He walked over to her chair and held out his hand. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

A pleased giggle left her mouth before she could stop it and her highly amused younger brother prodded her into taking Merlin's hand and standing up. He escorted her into the square with all the courtly air of a knight escorting a noblewoman to a banquet, and after placing his hands gently at her waist and shoulder, began to jig.

Hyrne knew next to nothing of jigging, but it was not hard after a few turns and jumps to join Merlin effortlessly in the dance. Her steps were not as smooth, but they were full of energy and life and the two spun around the square.

By now, more people had come to see what was going on, intrigued by the increasingly loud music and sounds of laughter. The knights had come over as they finished their drills and Gwen came over to investigate, the basket of laundry she was mending pressed against her hip. Even Arthur, although he never would have admitted it, had put down his quill and stood to look outside through the open window.

Gwen watched with a mix of amusement, pride, and awe as she watched Merlin spin Hyrne around the square, both their faces alight with laughter. She had heard Arthur call Merlin a riddle more than once, and she had to agree. Her best friend had a way of constantly surprising people with all the things he could do, and she was impressed to see him move with such grace and confidence. He looked positively handsome as he moved in time with the music, and she noted with some amusement several swooning girls watching him with admiration. _Arthur gets all the girls, indeed,_ she laughed to herself.

With laughter and exuberance filling her face and her brown hair flying out behind her, Hyrne looked almost beautiful as she danced. Nathaí grinned at the change and with a quick glance at Anam, launched into a new song and began to sing:

_I'll tell me Ma, when I go home The boys won't leave the girls alone. They pulled my hair, they stole my comb, But that's all right 'til I go home. She is handsome, she is pretty, She's the belle of Belfast City. She goes a courtin', one, two, three, Please won't you tell me who is she?_

Hyrne blushed and Merlin grinned at her. Gwaine yelled over at him. "Who _is_ she, mate? She must be good, to make it look like _you_ can dance."

"Don't laugh, just because _you_ can't!" Merlin challenged, laughing, as the two never missed a beat.

"Nonsense!" Gwaine bellowed, and he grabbed a nearby woman's arm and grinned rakishly at her. "Want to dance?"

And of course she did. Legendary Gwaine charm had struck again.

More people spilled onto the square now and began to dance, all stumbling and laughing as they tried to match Merlin's steps but instead settling for an equally exuberant if less complicated jig. Merlin smiled warmly as he and Hyrne slowed to a stop to catch their breaths, feeling proud of her happily flushed face and sparkling eyes. His smile grew even broader as a young man came over and asked her for a dance, the two disappearing into the throng of dancers.

The knights had also joined in, each walking to a young woman and asking them, in a manner much more respectful than Gwaine's, to dance. Lancelot had been especially courtly, escorting the young lad into the dance like a queen, but Merlin had not missed the flinch as he'd walked by Gwen. His friend clearly would have liked to have danced with Gwen, but apparently didn't trust his own feelings enough to touch her in such a potentially intimate way.

Merlin slipped beside Gwen and they both watched the throng of chaotic, exuberant dancers. They both smiled at Percival's careful handling of the smaller lady he was dancing with, at Elyan spinning the girl who sold apples outside the stables, at Leon jigging terribly with one of the maids, and at Gwaine's somewhat lecherous grin at the lady he was dancing with. However, Merlin noticed Gwen look wistfully about for someone who wasn't there. He shot a glance back towards the castle, and grinned at seeing a familiar silhouette in the window.

He turned to Gwen and held out a hand. "Come on!"

She absentmindedly grabbed his hand and then gasped in surprise as he pulled her forward into the square. Merlin spun her around once before grabbing her waist and hand, and then they began to dance.

If watching Merlin dance was awe-inspiring, actually dancing with him was even more so. Wind pulled at their hair and clothes, and Gwen laughed aloud at the feeling of freedom and lightheartedness that filled her entire body. Her eyes and face glowed, and she clapped as Merlin let go of her hands to jig around her before spinning around to meet his proffered hands, her skirts billowing out as she spun.

Merlin, for his part, was glad to see Gwen fully relaxed and happy since Morgana had left Camelot, although he noted with some amusement that she occasionally looked around them to see if a certain someone had made an appearance. He chuckled. "Don't worry, Gwen." She looked up at him and he smirked at her. "I give him two minutes at most."

"What?" Gwen asked.

Merlin felt the light shove on his shoulder. "Right on cue," he continued, smirking, and let go of Gwen's hands to look at the prince over his shoulder. "You move fast, your highness." Arthur could resist most things, but he'd known the prince couldn't stand to let someone else dance with Gwen.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Merlin." He stepped forward and, coughing slightly, held out a hand to Gwen. "May I?"

Gwen could not suppress the giggle or the pleased blush that spread across her nose, and Merlin sighed dramatically. "There goes my dance partner," he grinned as he theatrically bent to kiss Gwen's hand. "Thank you, my lady."

He received a playful swat on the shoulder from Gwen before she took Arthur's hand and pulled him into the dance. Arthur tried hard to ignore Merlin's insufferable, all-knowing grin but he couldn't help smiling back for a moment before Gwen began to move him through the steps of the dance.

Merlin stood at the edge of the crowd, laughing and clapping along with the beat of the music and the pounding of feet. Shooting a glance over to the two musicians, he saw Nathaí and Anam grinning at him. A flow of gratitude filled him as he saw what their music had done and he noted with some amusement that, although they had not set out a plate or cap for payment, there was a heap of bread, fruit, and a few coins at their feet. _Looks like their luck worked out after all,_ he thought to himself. "Thank you," he mouthed and he could tell by Anam's nod that they understood.

Just then, two small hands grabbed his and he was yanked into the fray, nearly falling flat on his face.

Pride filled the two musicians as they watched what their music had helped accomplish – yells and laughter and stomping filled the entire courtyard. They themselves had found this one of the most enlightening performances of their lives – due in large part to the young man who was once in the middle of the crowd. Merlin now had a young boy on his shoulders and was holding a little girl up so that the two children were holding hands and pretending to jig as Merlin moved around the square.

Nathaí shook his head in admiration and let out a bark of laughter. "The lad's got the magic in him!"

For the first time since they'd begun playing, the flute music stopped as Anam burst out laughing. "Aye, that he does."

He returned to the flute, Nathaí plied the bow to the strings, and they played on.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born out of two loves of mine – this show and Irish music. It doesn't hurt (or help, depending on how you look at it) that Colin Morgan is Irish, has that lovely accent, and so is easy for me to imagine that he'd been in this sort of situation. The musicians are never explicitly referred to as Irish, but that's the music I had in mind. I do reference a song in this story (the closest I suspect I'll ever get to a songfic) and it's called Tell Me Ma, by Gaelic Storm.


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